


The Kiss

by voodoo_smile



Category: Indie Music RPF, Music RPF, Pop Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, Rock Music RPF, The Cure (Band), music and bands
Genre: Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fanfiction, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Male Slash, Slash, The Cure, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 19:56:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10624053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoo_smile/pseuds/voodoo_smile
Summary: Setting: Simon/Robert. 1987. (Simon's POV)Disclaimer: I do not own The Cure. Everything described in this story is fictional.**Inspiration is taken from "Eyemou" a short film consisting entirely of a close-up of Robert's eyes and mouth while reciting an ancient Japanese tea ceremony. The short film was shown in place of a support act during the KMKMKM tour. Sightings of this are rare and I've only seen one video. I highly recommend watching it if you haven't already**WIP





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress. More will be posted as it develops.

You can view an old video of Eyemou here:

<https://youtu.be/eE86a3wZHuw>

 

***      ***      ***

 

He said he was obsessed with mouths. Haven’t a clue as to why he thought he needed to tell me that.

"... Does that bother you Si?" Robert's words almost made me jump. I didn't even hear what he was saying. I could only remember that odd conversation from a few minutes ago.

He was looking at me now, smiling that sweet smile of his, but there was something slightly devilish about it this time and I had to look away.

"Si?" His voice was quiet.

I swallowed hard, "What-what was the question again?" I didn't want to answer, but it was too late now.

"The film…making the film. Does that idea bother you?" He asked.

He had this strange idea of making a short film instead of a support act for the upcoming tour which was fine, wouldn't be the first time we'd done something like that, but it was the subject matter that amused me. It was going to be just of his mouth, close up... _the entire time._

"They're fascinating orifices aren't they?" Robert asked. "They're used for everything. For speaking, shoveling food into..." He paused and looked at me again, those blue eyes peering at me, "Sex..." And his voice trailed off.

That caught me off guard. Why was he talking about _that?_ And with that look… it was a look I'd never seen and it made me squirm, sending an unexpected shiver up my spine. No, that wasn't what I thought it was. It had to have been the cold from being in that huge house. It did get drafty at times, though probably not tonight as we’re both sitting on the couch with Robert practically smashed up against me. The wine I'd consumed for the better part of the evening warmed me as well. Maybe it was how the conversation changed that really got to me - the tone of it, not to mention the subject matter. It wasn’t what I was used to talking about with Robert. I mean, yeah we talk about a lot of weird shit, but this was...

My attempt to occupy myself with grabbing the wine bottle from the side table to hopefully change the subject failed as Robert spoke again.

"Simon?" He asked quickly.

"Y-yeah?" I answered, busying myself with filling my glass again.

"What do you think…about the film?"

Why was he even bloody pressing me about it? I wasn't exactly keen on the idea but he was so set on this I just felt like I should voice my doubts gently. He'd been in a strange fucking mood ever since the others left that evening anyway, so I wasn't really sure what to expect.

"Dunno, Robert. You really think it's a good idea?" Honestly, who would want to sit and watch his mouth for twenty minutes? I finally looked over at him and laughed.

"I honestly don't know why you think someone would like watching that - your fucking mouth."

"Why not?" He sounded almost hurt. His gaze traveled to the floor in front of him and after a moment, his quiet voice broke the silence.

"I like watching yours."

I almost choked on my mouthful of wine. _What?!?!_

I managed to force down the wine I was so close to spitting out from hearing Robert's unexpected statement, and all I could do next was move to grab the bottle again. I definitely needed another bloody drink, or maybe I was too drunk already and was just hearing things. Certainly wouldn't be out of the question at this point.

"I do, you know." His voice was so small and quiet that it didn't sound like Robert at all. It was almost a strangled whisper. His glazed eyes met mine only briefly then quickly flitted away, settling on an armchair across the room for no good reason other than to not have to face me, I suppose.

Don't know how many bottles of wine we went through before, during, and after dinner. I lost count. Maybe that was what this weirdness was all about; he could get a little fucking odd when the red wine was flowing. There were quite a few times I had to take the bottle away as he drank himself into a stupor and I had to help him to bed, sometimes actually even help him get  _into_ bed, and it was one of those episodes in particular that wandered back into my mind for a fleeting moment. I shivered once again and hoped it was really from the cold this time, but I wasn't so sure now.

I should just stop fucking thinking and call it an evening.

"Your drunk aren't you?" I tried anything to drag the both of us back from our wandering thoughts, back into reality.

"I-I-Sure...Yeah." He breathed, and his crimson lips stained with faded lipstick and red wine curled up into a shy smile.

"Right. It's late anyway." I said with finality, not giving him much of a choice. I wanted this awkward moment to be over, "Can you make it up the stairs and into bed, then?"

"Yeah." After a moment, Robert stood, swayed slightly, than immediately fell back onto the couch, flopping down almost as if an invisible hand had knocked him back.

"Oh, Christ." I laughed quietly. Looks like this would be another one of those episodes. I was drunk as well, but at least a tad steadier. I glanced up at the long, dark wooden staircase and sighed. The both of us climbing that successfully would prove to be very fucking interesting, indeed.

***      ***      ***

The wood creaked as we finally reached the last riser on the staircase. Robert's arms were still clamped tightly around my waist and his head was practically buried in my chest and he was strangely silent.

I loosened my grip around his body and surprisingly, we finally made it safely with both feet planted firmly on the landing.

"You okay to make it further on your own?" I asked. I could only see his mass of dark hair as his body was still plastered to mine.

"Hmm?" He almost hummed, "Smell good Si..." His voice trailed off and was suddenly quiet. What the hell was he saying? Was he going to sleep right here up against me?

"Hey," I shook him lightly, "you're getting heavy Robert. Let's get you to bed."

"Uh-huh. Are you going to stay?" He mumbled sleepily.

"Of course." It was right after replying to that I knew I had answered too soon, not giving enough time for what Robert asked to register, hoping I was wrong as to the actual meaning of it. But why would I even think he would say something like that? I had to be wrong. The wine had clearly fogged my mind and we both needed sleep, desperately.

"Stay here, in the house? Yes." I quickly added.

"Oh." It was a sound of disappointment. What was he expecting?

"But, it's cold." It was a drunken whine.

Shit, seriously?

"You'll be fine. Come on. Walk. I need sleep."

We weren't getting very far. He sighed as we continued on, not saying a word as we entered his room. I flipped on the light and the huge bed loomed before us as we approached. Robert stood against the side of it hanging onto the over-sized bedpost, blankly looking down at the sheets, offering no help as I clumsily pulled them back.

I placed my hand on his shoulder and the other on his waist, supporting him as best as I could, considering the fact that I wasn't exactly sober either. I was struggling and he wasn't fucking helping at all.

"Fuck, Robert. Let's go. Get in." I slowly leaned in and helped him down onto the mattress. He settled back with his head resting on the pillow and I reached down, intending to pull the sheets up.

"Simon?" As I traveled back up hovering over him, he moved his hands over mine, gently. I instinctively tried pulling them away, but Roberts grip tightened, holding them there, insisting.

"Can-can you help me? My clothes..." He slurred, his eyes were closed, but his warm hands were still holding mine, firmly.

"I-I don't think--" I fumbled. What didn't I think? Robert's hands started to slowly massage my palms. This was getting surreal, "Robert…"

"Please." It was practically a whisper, but so different to anything I'd ever heard come out of his mouth. It was low and breathy.

Still leaning over him, I wordlessly began to unbutton his shirt. The sooner I got this over with, the sooner I could sleep, but as I continued, it was as if there was a thick, smothering silence that hung in the room. Robert kept his eyes shut and it almost sounded like he was holding his breath. My hands began to shake slightly and I stopped for a moment, trying to steady them and that’s when Robert's eyes opened and met mine. His lids were heavy, and that look... There was something else in his eyes as they gazed up at me, not moving from my face. I reached the last button and slowly spread the shirt open as he sat up, still wobbly from the wine, but still keeping his gaze locked on mine. I pushed the shirt back and it slid off his shoulders, revealing an expanse of smooth, perfectly pale, white skin that I’d never seen before in the entire time that I’d known him.

His chest was lined with a fine sprinkle of hair and his smooth arms and shoulders glowed in the soft light. I could feel his eyes on me now as I took in his bare skin before me. My eyes ticked up to his face and I noticed how equally perfect it was. He was handsome, yet had almost feminine features, all contained within that perfect skin, contrasted and framed by a mass of seductively, disheveled dark hair. He was beautiful.

He licked his firm, smooth lips slowly, his hands still gripping mine.

"Robert, I--" My eyes widened and I continued to stare at him.

He brought one hand up to my face, his thumb tracing the outline of my lower lip and I let out a shaky breath. What the hell was happening? This was my best mate that I've known for years.

It was a whisper. His lips parted and I could barely make out what he said, "Simon, your mouth...."

I swallowed hard, " _What?!_ Robert..." I couldn't breathe. I was terrified, yet intrigued as to what he might say if he continued to talk.

"Kiss me." He said softly.

My mouth literally fell open in shock at what he'd just said and I couldn't move. He couldn't be speaking to me. Maybe he was already asleep and he was dreaming? Dreaming of his girlfriend? But his eyes were open and they were gazing up at me. Maybe he was delirious from the wine, which was probably more likely, knowing Robert. I couldn't think of any other bloody explanation as to his choice of words.

He brought his head up and forward and his smooth, moist lips just touched mine and I nearly jumped at that feeling. Robert's lips were now on mine...and I heard him emit a soft sigh as he inched forward even further, pressing them firmly onto my mouth, but I didn't back away. I couldn't. I was frozen into place until he pulled back and looked up at me, his pink tongue appearing once again to lick his lips.

"Kiss me, Si..." He breathed again.

And I did...and when that tongue had found it's way into my mouth, it sent a pulse straight to my cock.

 


End file.
